


I'll show you dirty defending...

by j_obsessed



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Blame Joe Root's Instagram, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Football | Soccer, Kissing, M/M, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: Fluff. That's all it is. Inspired by a few posts on Joey's Instagram :')
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root, Stuart Broad/Steven Finn, hints of Jimmy Anderson/Alastair Cook
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	I'll show you dirty defending...

Pre-training warm up with the boys is always so much fun, and it’s the perfect way to start gruelling sessions before five-day tests. Whether they’re doing lazy laps around the oval and chatting about what they’re planning on doing that evening, or trying to one-up each other in volleyball (it’s more of a competition regarding who’s got the best trash-talking skills, in all honesty), or whether Joe has decided to tug Stu’s tracks down to reveal his skins (and ends up being chased for fifteen minutes while the rest of them roll on the floor laughing). It doesn’t matter, it’s always a good time.

The most fun, however, is when they play five a side football. That, is warm-up shenanigans at its absolute best. They usually switch teams up every practice, and for this particular one, it’s a fiery matchup. (The author sounds like a commentator, please forgive her.)

Jos, Jason, Ben, Mark and Stu.

Against Joe, Sam, Eoin, Chris and Steve.

Alex and Jimmy have appointed themselves as referees, _this should be good…_ while Rash and Mo are relaxing on the grass, opting out of this particular match.

Joe is NOT happy to be in the team against Jos. He doesn’t mind being separated from his boyfriend in general, and he’ll take Jos on in golf any day (mostly because the wicketkeeper cannot play for shit, and looks adorable when he pouts, and Joe always kisses him in compensation).

But in football?!

Um. No.

He thinks the fuck not, thank you very much.

He’s begrudgingly admitted in several interviews that Jos is the best of them at it, countless times has said the keeper’s ‘picked the wrong sport to play for his country in.’

Although, he really hasn’t chosen incorrectly, because Jos manages some incredible wicketkeeping catches, and the man can _bat_. A strike rate of 119.8 in ODIs is not a weak feat. Not by a long shot. (Yes, Joe has his boyfriend’s stats memorised. Shut up, he’s in love.)

Okay, so Jos is good at cricket. BUT, that’s not the point. The point is. Jos is good at _football_. Jos is quick on his feet, with lightning reflexes, and has insane control. And okay, maybe Joe is jealous, but who isn’t jealous of the blonde wicketkeeper’s skills.

Another thing about Jos, is that he’s _competitive_. And in no way, shape or form, is he afraid to walk on the fine edge of bending the rules, if it means he gets his team over the line.

Which is currently what’s going on. It’s two-all, and admittedly, both sides are playing a little dirty. But there’s some pointedly interesting tactics being used by Ben and Jos specifically. Because while Stu and Steve have the decency to keep their hands off each other during play, _some couples_ lack that precise gene of tact.

For example, while Eoin was gearing up to strike the winning goal (as Joe puts it), Ben managed to send him a cocky smirk, coupled with a ‘don’t bother with it sweetheart, we’re just too good!’ as he dashed past, taking possession from Eoin, and passing to Stu. Mark and Jason just cackled obnoxiously, troublemakers they are, mimicking their opposition’s disgruntled expressions. Jason had settled a bit at the sight of a pouting Sam, and Mark just rolled his eyes. _Couples, ugh._

Or, the time when Joe was setting up for a penalty-kick, before Jos walked past and brushed his hand across Joe’s lower back, and breathed a ‘good luck with the kick baby, don’t stare at my thighs while I wait to block it’ against his neck with a smirk that he could _feel_. The bastard.

Jos always makes a show of goal-keeping stern jaw, concentrated gaze, contracted muscles in his thighs. He’s got fucking incredible reflexes, comes with the job to be honest, that Joe usually praises- BECAUSE THEY USUALLY PLAY FOR THE SAME DAMN TEAM. But right now, they suck.

He tells Jos as much when his kick is blocked. His boyfriend just chuckles, fist-bumping Ben as runs back to his preferred striker position, completely ignoring the glares from both Morgs and Joe. Of course, five a side means that Jos can play _all_ the positions, _all_ of which he’s good at.

Joseph Charles Buttler, you absolute show-off.

Jos and Ben are naturally cheeky on field, smiles and smirks and digging little comments and smart little lilts. They make long test matches and ODI fielding bearable, while occasionally riling up Virat Kohli or Sheldon Cottrell in the process. It’s a lot of fun to watch- when they’re on your side, that is. Right now, it’s driving Joe insane.

Morgs calls that next goal wins, because as much as they’d love to play all day, they have actual jobs they need to train for.

So they’re off again, and Joe manages to steal the ball from Jason (thanks to Sam, who happens to bend over to tie his shoelace at just the _perfect_ moment). Within seconds Jos is converging on him, as Ben defends Morgs. There’s some dirty defending already, but then Jos tugs at his shirt while trying to steal from him, and it reminds him of the _many_ times that Jos has done _that._ Tugged at his shirt like _that_. That one time against the door of their hotel room, last week while they were crashing through the hallway linked at the tongue, or that time while they were falling into bed after a thrashing win over South Africa...

Safe to say, Jos takes possession of the ball.

Joe is miles away, and very very distracted; he doesn’t even realise they’ve lost and that Jos has kicked the final goal. Ben jumps his slightly shorter teammate and there are high-fives all round. They shake hands, all that good-spirit and sportsmanship stuff, congratulating each other on a “very fair, very well-played game of football-”

“Fair?! Very fair? Well played?!”

“You sound like a fucking screeching banshee the way you’re squawking Joe.”

“Shut up Benny! Very fair my absolute _ass_ Jos Buttler, your shirt pulling is very dirty defending and it is _strictly prohibited!”_ Joe is storming up to his boyfriend, angrily jabbing at the air with his pointer finger.

Joe can hear Eoin’s expressive agreement, as Jos’ smug grin gives way to giggles, and then chuckles, and then basically the entire team is dying of laughter at Joe and Eoin’s indignance. Joe pouts angrily, crossing his arms.

“Aww baby, nooo don’t pout, baby I’m _sorry”_ Jos comes up behind him, trying to peck his cheek and squish him into his chest. Joe is adamant that this cutesy adorable treatment WILL NOT weaken him at all. (He’s said this before. Like, a thousand times. Maybe even a million. He’s always wrong.)

“Babyyy, Joeeyyyyy, angellll,” Jos doesn’t let up, no matter how Joe tries to ignore him and dodge him and twist away, the keeper manages to take him into his arms (very muscular, strong, safe arms) and peck his cheek softly, with a gorgeous soft smile and cheeky puppy-dog eyes.

Sigh.

_We’re giving in, aren’t we?_

_Joe’s brain supplies._

_Yep, we’re weak._

_Goddamnit, we are so predictable._

Joe looks around quickly.

Eoin has already settled into Ben’s chest, and Stu and Finny are setting up the wicket. Sam and Jason are nowhere to be found, and Chris and Mark are picking between cricket practice balls. No one seems to be watching them. So Joe turns himself around in Jos’ grip, wraps his arms around his shoulders and lets himself be squished. Not like he ever really had a choice in the matter. His body responds to Jos without his brain’s approval. His body’s need to be close to Jos is seriously, incredibly annoying and irritating… (no it isn’t).

Jos whispers something into the space between them, but Joe is too busy staring at the blonde boy’s slightly parted lips to hear it. When they shift into a smirk of realisation, Joe looks up sheepishly. “Um, what?”

Jos just leans closer, smiling, knows he’s winning this one. “I said, am I forgiven, oh dear love of mine?”

Joe rolls his eyes, and momentarily glances around the field. It’s not that the boys don’t know. They definitely do, since Joe was drunk when he climbed onto a bar table and announced, rather loudly, to everyone that; ‘MY BOYFRIEND SCORED THE FASTEST ENGLISH ODI CENTURY AND YOU HOES ARE SLEEPING ON IT.’ Jos had helped him off the table, blushing furiously, as the rest of the team started their usual hollering of ‘I KNEW YOU TWO WERE FUCKING’ and ‘YEAH GET SOME JOEY.’ So, yeah, the boys definitely know.

It’s just that Joe’s maybe a little shy about PDA. Standing on a table and declaring his boyfriend’s success, well, that’s nothing. He basically does that every other day on Instagram anyway. Kissing Jos in the middle of a cricket field in front of everyone? That’s something he wouldn’t usually do. But no one is looking right now, and his boyfriend looks very kissable. Joe decides that a simple kiss won’t hurt anyone.

“You’re forgiven if you kiss me”

And his boyfriend looks surprised, because he knows how Joe feels about snogging in front of everyone. And being the amazing boyfriend that he is, Jos double checks. “Angel are you sure? I’m sorry for leaning in like that, I just- you look kind of debauched and-” Jos’ calm expression and concerned eyes just seal the idea for Joe, because he does, really really want to kiss his boyfriend. Like, right now. Stat.

“I’m sure. Please. Kiss me.”

A quiet ‘okay’ is breathed against his lip, before Jos’ soft pink ones make contact. It’s just a soft press, sweet and soft and adorable. And it’s agonising. And despite Joe knowing that they really shouldn’t, he presses his body closer to the keeper, holds his jaw, and does it again. The pleased sigh from Jos’ throat prompts him to pull away, hands now resting on the keeper’s chest, which Joe is definitely NOT copping a feel of.

“Definitely forgiven,” Jos chuckles softly at Joe’s dreamy tone, eyes still on the younger’s flushed cheeks, observing his comfort level cautiously, “but no shirt pulling next time.” His pointer finger is back in Jos’ face.

The accusation makes the perpetrator laugh. “Why are you so hellbent on the shirt pulling hm? It’s not like Mark, and Benny, and even Woakesy weren’t pulling the same shit.”

Joe realises what he’s just done. He’s told Jos about a _weakness._ Oh dear. He’s never going to win another football match against his boyfriend. Ever. Not that he’s ever actually accomplished that particular feat anyway… Sigh.

“Uh- well, you see, I started thinking about what usually happens after you tug my shirt like that, and you were flirting and being cheeky and playing a bit on the dirtier side today and I-”

“Please for the love of god tell me I can kiss you again”

Joe forgoes all of his worrying and anxiety and jumps into Jos’ arms, sending them both to the floor. This is far from their first kiss, but it just feels different. Joe’s laying in the grass, Jos’ arms tight around him, body pressed close, not a care in the world.

The younger looks beautiful under Jos, eyes even livelier with the green surrounding them, smile even brighter, laugh even cheekier. They’re grinning like idiots, until Joe leans up and kisses his boyfriend, and then they’re smiling into the kiss like they did when they first started dating, and every single time since then.

Jos rolls them over, so Joe is lying in his arms on his side, and so he can press kisses to the youngers neck. Joe squirms in his arms and they end up a pile of limbs laughing and mucking about.

The both of them are so caught up in each other, that they don’t realise that the wicket has been set up, their kits are open and everyone has already padded up. Chris and Mark have finally chosen what they want to bowl with, Jason and Sam are back too, with flushed faces and slightly suspicious looks on their faces (Joe and Jos are a bit too absorbed in each other to notice.) They also don’t notice almost all of the team, watching them happily, pleased to see Joe so relaxed after taking the test captaincy.

Until they hear an “ahem, if you’re quite done,” from Morgs (who has his hands on his hips) in his very Captain-y Voice, fond smile still poking through.

Jos grins sheepishly, helping Joe up and apologising with a quick “sorry skip,” accompanied by a kiss to Morgs’ left cheek, which Joe mimics on the right. The captain rolls his eyes, but he loves them, really.

Stu and Finny are looking at them sweetly, remembering when they used to be like that – remembering how Jimmy and Ali used to call them out for acting like love-sick idiots. Not like those two could really say anything either.

Jimmy is standing somewhere off to the side, sending Ali a picture he’d taken of the two blondes mucking about on the grass with a nostalgic smile.

They finally begin training. Joe smiles at his boyfriend behind the stumps, rationalises that maybe PDA isn’t so bad, because his team is kind of brilliant. He makes sure to be extra-encouraging that practice, dishing out hugs for every good ball, every well-timed shot, and _especially_ every brilliant wicket-keeping catch.

A few days later, after he’s just finished up a strategy meeting with some selectors, he notices that his PR team has sent him some photos of their football match/warm-up from that day. There’s a particularly interesting photo of himself, mid juggling the football, covered in sweat with his bib torn and shirt obviously tugged at relentlessly. He smirks, and posts the photo on Instagram with a cheeky caption:

**root66** Think we need to get #var in our warm up! Shirt pulling a problem. @josbuttler #dirtydefending

He gets a text from Jos the minute he posts the photo.

**18:47 jos <3**

_i’ll show you dirty defending_

_get your ass back home_

**18:47 joey <3**

_coming soon, oh gentlemanly boyfriend of mine_

_10 mins max_

**18:48 jos <3**

_hmm_

_not coming just yet, but soon ;)_

**18:48 joey <3**

_Joseph Charles Buttler._

_you better wait for me…_

And if Joe drives home a little bit faster than he should, well, it’s excused.


End file.
